Page 8 of At Harper's Ferry


  *

  They traveled back to the central part of Washington, passing several loaded Army wagons along the way. Lewis Abbot’s apartment was on the top floor of a large brick, four-story building on North Capitol Street. It was a highly respectable part of town known to house Senators and Congressmen. The sidewalk up to the front entrance was bricked and swept clean. After they tied their horses to a nearby post, Jack looked grimly up at the building.

  “Not exactly the home of a villain,” Ezra commented.

  “In my experience, some of the richest of men have gotten their gain through unscrupulous means.”

  Jack presented his calling card to the bored-looking doorman. The doorman raised an eyebrow after reading the card and told them to wait until he returned. He was gone for a few minutes and then smugly answered their query, “You will find Mister Abbott’s apartment on the fourth floor.” He continued to eye Ezra warily after pointing them towards the stairway.

  They went through the exquisite marble entrance, past a sleepy desk clerk and then climbed the dark-carpeted flight of stairs to the top floor. They then went through a richly decorated hallway and stopped at a door with a gold-plated placard indicating that this is where Abbott resided.

  “Let’s see what kind of man we are dealing with,” Jack said to his partner in a low voice. He knocked and waited.

  The door opened and before them stood a middle-aged butler with a long nose and dark eyes. “Ah yes, Mister Abbot will see you. If you could come this way,” he said. He motioned them into the apartment.

  The apartment was well-appointed with new furniture and thick plush rugs. The shades over the windows were drawn and the gas fixtures were turned low, giving an eerie glow to the room. They followed the butler into a large living room, where two men were waiting. One was tall and dark-haired, sitting silently in a low chair with a large Colt Navy pistol resting in his lap. The other man was sitting on the sofa, smoking a cigarette. He was hunched over, studying the large tumbler he held before him. Upon hearing then arrive, he looked up and purposefully dropped the cigarette into his drink.

  Jack studied him and saw a middle-aged man who was obviously still proud of his looks. The thinning hair was carefully cut and combed over in feeble attempt to hide a bald spot. He was wearing a fine suit of clothes that looked if they had been pressed just that day. Although fit, he looked like he led a hard life with an excess of drinking. He was also just beginning to grow thick in the middle.

  The man nodded to his butler. “Good, good – that will be all, Thomas.”

  The butler gave a bow and left.

  Jack looked around the room and saw several fine paintings and a large rug before an unlit fireplace. He then turned his attention back to face the man at the sofa. “Lewis Abbott, I presume. This is a nice place you have here. My name is Jack Blackwood, and this is my associate, Mister Miller. We were hired by the Hanson family.”

  “I am Abbott. I’ve heard of you before. A detective.”

  “I’m not surprised. Then you know what to expect from me.”

  Abbott smirked, lifted his hand up toward Jack as if to stop his talking, and said: “Before you even start, I want you to know that I don’t deny knowing Lawrence. We met over a year ago at a gentleman’s club. We both share a passion for playing cards. You must understand that our relationship is quite casual, and I bear the lad no ill-will.”

  The man with the pistol shifted in his chair, his cool eyes watching the conversation disinterestedly.

  “I’m happy to hear that,” Jack said. “Do you know where Lawrence could be at this time? His family is most concerned to know of his whereabouts.”

  “I really don’t know where he could be,” Abbott replied quickly. “But I hope he is found alive and well soon.”

  “You don’t seem overly concerned,” Jack said plainly. He did not like Abbott’s indifference and found the man with the Colt a bit unnerving.

  “Stevenson,” Abbot said, his voice matter-of-fact. “I want you to remember these two.”

  The man named Stevenson then stood up and studied Jack and Ezra impassively. He was quite tall and held the gun on his side with the barrel pointed towards the floor. He had the eyes of an experienced killer and his face remained lifeless as he looked them over. “Yes, sir,” he replied flatly. “I’ll remember them, and take care of them if they make any kind of trouble for you.” His voice was the same as his expression - cold. Stevenson then sat back down and continued to watch them impassively with the pistol cradled in his lap.

  Ezra sensed the silent challenge from him and stood with his arms crossed and his jaw tensed.

  “Don’t think that your trained puppy scares me all,” Jack said mockingly. “I came here to ask you some questions about Lawrence.”

  “Then get on with it,” Abbot yawned, raised an eyebrow at them and shifted his weight further back into the couch. “You must understand, I had a long night and don’t understand why you are even asking me these questions in the first place.”

  “Lawrence Hanson has disappeared and several sources tell us you were there at the Gay Lady Saloon the night he went missing.”

  “Who are these sources?” Abbott asked, his face slowly reddening with anger.

  “Never mind, just tell us why you met Lawrence there.” It was obvious to Jack that Abbot was hiding something. He was also beginning to get impatient with the evasive answers. It was a tiresome business.

  “In all the years I’ve spent in Washington. I’ve never even heard of such a saloon.”

  “It’s a rundown place over on French Street,” Jack replied shortly.

  Abbott lazily reached into a wooden box on the table and pulled out a cigarette. Striking a match, he lit the cigarette and looked over the flame. “A man of my means wouldn’t be spending his time in a place like that. I’ll tell you right here and now that I did not see or meet Lawrence that night.”

  Ezra took a step towards Abbott. “We happen to know otherwise,” he spoke sharply. “We have a note telling Lawrence to meet you there,” he bluffed.

  Jack motioned his partner back. “What he says is true, Abbott.”

  Lewis Abbott quickly stood up and pointed with the cigarette at them. “I said I wasn’t there. I did not write any note for Lawrence. I may have met him on occasion – he was such a good partner in cards - but I have no idea where he is now. Why would I have a reason to lie to you?”

  Jack handed the note over that he received from Faith Hanson. “This isn’t your handwriting?

  Abbott studied the note, reading it with a frown. He handed the note back to Jack and gave him a smug smile. “Anyone could have written that note to him.”

  Jack didn’t believe him and used another tactic to question him. “How did you know that we were coming to visit you?”

  “Lawrence and I were seen together,” Abbott replied slowly. “It’s only natural that you would come to see me. His sister never liked me, so I’m not too surprised that she tried to hire someone to try to intimidate me. She puts too much stock in me if she can even consider that I am to blame in any way.”

  “How often did you meet with Lawrence?”

  “We had certain common interests in cards and drink. We got along rather well at social events and our friendship grew from there. I’d say we met at least twice a month, maybe more often. His sister grew to hate me, since she considered me such a bad influence on her brother. Well, you know how those churchy women are. In her eyes, I am the devil incarnate.”

  “That may be so, but I still don’t know what you are hiding from us,” Jack quickly said. “We just want to discover where Lawrence is right now. If you won’t tell us, we will be bound to find out somehow. Just make sure to watch yourself carefully, Mister Abbot, because we’ll be watching you.”

  Abbott laughed. “Am I supposed to be afraid of you two? My man here can easily handle the both of you at the same ti
me.”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve managed to escape the law before, but I’m afraid this time it will be different. The government has taken an interest in this case. I’m not representing them, but if I find out where Lawrence or those papers are, I may have to tell them.”

  Lewis Abbott’s jaw bulged with anger. “I suggest you leave before I have you thrown out. My man would be more than happy to do the job.”

  Suddenly, Stevenson was standing, his gun at the ready, his eyes moving between Jack and Ezra. His face was still flat and empty, but his eyes were ablaze with the anticipation of a fight.

  Shaking his head with disbelief, Jack turned to his partner and gave him a lopsided grin. “He’s quick with the threats.”

  “He sure is,” Ezra replied through gritted teeth. “Maybe a little too quick.”

  Jack returned his attention back to Abbot. “You’ll find me a hard man to get rid of. C’mon, Ezra, let’s go and find some better company.” With those last words, they turned to leave.

  Lewis Abbot followed them. He said, “If you will not listen to reason, Mister Blackwood, perhaps you would listen to money. I have two hundred dollars here to keep you away from me. I do not intend to be implicated in any kind of scandal since I am innocent of any wrongdoing.”

  This offer, especially after the threats, surprised Jack. “My job is to serve the interest of the Hanson family. I shall not be bought off like a common constable on the street.”

  “You would be better off if you took my money. If you are waiting for a larger sum, you must understand I won’t waste my time haggling with a poor detective like yourself.”

  Jack stared at him and finally said, “We’ll find our own way out.” They left, slamming the door shut. He strode down the stairs with his partner following close behind. Outside Abbot’s apartment building, they saddled up and began slowly riding down the street where they joined the busy afternoon traffic of men, horses, and wagons.

  “I guess we know a little more about Mister Abbott,” Jack started. “Although he has a nice place, I don’t like the company he keeps.”

  It took Ezra a moment to answer. Their meeting had left him a little tense, and he was sitting poker straight in the saddle. He spat out, “He makes a nicer gentleman to look at than to talk to. Perhaps he just wanted to get rid of us quickly, before we could find out anything important, and so he resorted to threats and rudeness. His manners won’t win him any friends here.”

  “Makes me wonder - what else do you think he knows…” Jack said, his voice trailing off a little as he thought about what tack to follow next. He finally said, “Ezra, I will head down to the War Department to have a talk with Lawrence’s employer. I want you to find out what you can about Abbot. He’s the spider in the middle of this web and we need to know more about him. When you’re done, let’s meet back at the Gay Lady Saloon. It’s time we take a look at the last place he was seen. Perhaps we can scare up some more information. There’s bound to be someone there who saw Abbott or Lawrence that night.”

  “I’ll ask a few of the servants I know,” Ezra said nodding his head. “A man like Abbott will try to cover his tracks very carefully, but he must slip up eventually. Some of his past blackmail victims might have more information as well. If they are silent out of fear then perhaps their servants would be willing to talk.”

  “Be careful,” Jack replied. “I’m sure Abbot would gladly kill either one of us given the chance. That Stevenson looked to be sick in the head.”

  His partner laughed and turned his horse towards the residential area. “He wouldn’t be the first man who tried to kill me,” he said. “And you be careful too. There are more than a few people who wouldn’t shed a tear if you were found dead.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Jack said. “I’ll see you at the saloon soon.” He slowly rode on in the dusty street towards the War Department, thinking of Faith Hanson and her long blonde hair.